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Tobias the Aasimar

The arrow flew through the air, striking the deer in the heart, killing it instantly. Tobias was grateful for the accuracy of his newly crafted bow. He walked over to the stag and examined it briefly before loading it onto his shoulders and beginning the hour long walk back home.

He was hauling his kill home when he saw his neighbor, Charles McDaggen, sitting on a fallen log, looking very dejected, and holding a broken bow. Tobias approached him and asked, “Charles, are you all right?” The craftsman looked up at him, saying, “I broke my bow, and with the fair not being for another two weeks, I won’t have the gold to get a new one until then. But the kids are going to need food in the meantime.” Tobias sighed, already knowing what he should do, but feeling a little torn about it. It wasn’t like the craftsman had ever done anything to help Tobias, if anything he had only been rude to him. But, he needed help, and Tobias could give it to him. Tobias dropped the deer carcass in front of Charles and said, “If you skin and gut that properly it should be enough to last you until the fair.” Charles looked at the deer for a moment before jumping up and embracing Tobias. Tobias tensed uncomfortably, patting the weeping man on the back a few times before Charles released his grip. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” Charles said, his eyes brimming with tears. “Just don’t break your bow again.” Tobias replied before walking back into the forest. He needed to find some more dinner.

A couple weeks after this event Tobias came home to find his mother admiring a sculpture of a flower with sparkling petals. He sighed. “Another trinket from a wounded traveler with no way to pay?” She smiled at him, the wrinkles that were now surrounding her eyes becoming more pronounced. “No son, this one is a gift for you; Charles left it here this morning before heading to the fair. Said it was repayment for the deer you gave him.” Tobias walked over and examined the small statue. He shrugged, “Should fetch a good price at the market, maybe enough to get us the shingles to replace the roof before they give out on us.” Annalee shook her head “Oh no! We can’t trade this, it was a gift! And look how beautiful a gift it is.”

She took it from him and carried it to a small shelf where a number of other trinkets sat. Tobias sighed. “Mother, that wasn’t a gift that was payment. And if we sold it and all the other so called gifts that you’ve been given over the years, we wouldn’t be living in a half broken down shack!” He was breathing a little heavily at this point. Annalee smiled sadly and shook her head at him before saying, “Oh son, you already know that I’ve never wanted to be rich. A true healer can never be focused on money or riches, because then she loses all desire for people to be healthy and happy.” She picked up a small bronze necklace, letting the chain run through her fingers “How could I ever make someone pay for the chance to be healthy, or run again, or hold on to life? Those are priceless and as such I will never accept payment more than what I need to continue to heal others.”

Tobias glared. “Well, that would be easier if we had had a man around here when I was growing, or even now.” Annalee frowned at him. “Honey, we’ve talked about this many times; you know why your father hasn’t come back.” “No, I know all the excuses you’ve made for him. Besides, even if he couldn’t come, you could always have remarried.” She shook her head. “I made a promise that I would love your father and be faithful through better or worse. We’re just going through a worse that has lasted decades.” Tobias threw his hands in the air. “What’s the point of a promise to someone who will never be able to honor their end of it? He hasn’t come back and he never will!”

He stormed to the corner where his bow and quiver lay. His mother glanced at it and said, “You can’t be too angry with him. You still use the returning sheathe that he gave you.” Tobias looked at the gilded strap that held his bow in place, a glare still evident in his eyes. “A cheap one trick present that’s been more useful than he’s ever been.” His feet pounded as he walked towards the door. “Thirty years since he’s been here and that’s the one thing he’s given us!” He slammed the door behind him. After the window stopped rattling from the outburst, Annalee closed her eyes to keep the tears in and whispered, “He gave me you.”

Forty three years later

The cleric placed the damp cloth gently on Annalee’s wrinkled forehead before standing up. He then walked over to Tobias, placing a hand on the Aasimar’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Tobias, but it looks like it’s just her age. I could come back tomorrow with some better spells prepared to combat the fever, but I don’t believe it will buy her much more time, and she says she’s ready to go.” Tobias looked the elven cleric in the eyes, no emotion showing on his face, and said, “Just come back tomorrow with the spells.” The cleric bowed his head and walked out the door. As soon as the door shut Tobias ran to his mother’s bedside. He checked the cloth on her forehead and, finding it satisfactory, he took her gently by the hand. Annalee’s eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled at Tobias. “Don’t worry, son. It’s just my time.”

Tobias gently rubbed her hand “Not while I have anything to say about it. Is there anything I can get you?” She thought for a moment and then sighed, “It would be nice to smell some angel breeze flowers.” Tobias bit his lip. The nearest patch of those was deep in the forest. Even running it would take him at least an hour. Tobias kissed his mother on the forehead. “Ok, I’ll go get some.” Annalee smiled at him. “I’ve always been able to count on you. You’ve been so good to me.” Tobias stood up. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She closed her eyes. “You be good now.” “Of course, mother.” He stood up and left the room. As soon as he left the room, Annalee let loose a shudder and whispered, “Goodbye, Tobias.”

Before entering the house again, Tobias stopped to catch his breath and fiddled with the bouquet to make sure it hadn’t been too badly messed up. After assuring it was fine, he stepped inside. He froze for a moment as he saw a tall winged figure kneeling next to his mother’s bed. With his bow on the other side of the room, his only means of defense were his fists, so he dropped the bouquet and raised his fists before shouting “Who are you?” The figure stood and turned towards him. The stranger stood at least two feet taller than Tobias, was dressed in flowing white robes, and carried a large trumpet in his right hand. The most striking feature, however, was that he had no pupils, just glowing white eyes. Even though Tobias had never met this man before, he instantly sensed who it was. “Dad?” he asked softly.

The angel nodded. “Hello Tobias, I am Mithrail, third Sentinel of Mezotan. I had hoped to meet you under better circumstances. Unfortunately my duties have kept me from coming sooner.” Mithrail hung his head. “And it seems that I came too late to save her.” Tobias inhaled sharply. “What? No!” He ran past Mithrail to his mother’s bed. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing. “No, no, no, no.” He whispered. He heard Mithrail’s melodic voice from behind, “I’m sorry, Tobias. There was nothing I could do. She told me to let you know that she loved you and–” Before he could finish, Tobias shouted while standing up, “You be quiet, you worthless excuse of an angel! All these years you’ve been utterly useless and now even when you’re here you’re useless useless useless! Get out of here!”

Mithrail stared down at Tobias with a stern expression. “Now, son, I’m sure that you’re distressed, but even so I will not tolerate being spoken to in such a manner.” Tobias stared directly into the archon’s eyes. “Fine,” Tobias growled, and then punched his father in the jaw. The blow didn’t seem to faze the angel. He just stared down at Tobias and said “Enough!” The command rang with an otherworldly energy that shook Tobias to his core, and he found himself unable to move. Mithrail walked towards the door and said, “I know that your mother would not have raised you to speak like this, and I will not tolerate it again. In light of this event I will let it pass this once.”

Mithrail paused at the door and spoke again, this time his voice much softer and gentler, “I made a grievous mistake in never checking up on you before. I can’t promise to be involved much more than I already have been, but I may be able to help you later. Goodbye, my son.” Mithrail walked out and shut the door behind him. Tobias stood there, no longer paralyzed by the shout’s effect but now by anger. He stood for only a few moments before looking again at his mother and then, dropping to his knees, began crying.

The funeral would have been unremarkable, were it not for the fact that an archon had placed his sword as the tombstone. It glowed with a heavenly light and, despite one thief’s best efforts, was not able to be lifted from the ground. Most of the town showed up, all of them at one time or another had been helped by the master healer, and many of them owed her their lives. Tobias didn’t care for their sympathies. None of their condolences would do anything to bring her back. He knew that his mother had lived much longer than should have been expected, but that couldn’t change the fact that she was now gone. Once the cleric finished speaking and closed the grave, Tobias laid a bouquet of angel breeze flowers on top of the mound of earth that now covered his mother. Upon returning home he began packing his bags. He knew he couldn’t take too much, since he would be carrying it all.

He filled one bag with all the trinkets his mother had collected over the years. He knew there was a merchant in the next town over that would likely buy them. He glanced around the room that had been his home for the total 74 years of his life, and then walked out without another look. His journey over the next few weeks was uneventful. Tobias had spent enough of his childhood roaming the forests that he could survive in just about any forest, as long as he didn’t meet anything too terrible. He also had a way with animals, so luckily he was able to calm most down without a problem. He wandered from town to town, not really knowing what he was looking for. It wasn’t until he overheard a conversation in a local village that he decided.

Tobias had been looking for an inn to spend the night, since his neck was beginning to get sore from sleeping on the ground and tree branches. Just as he was heading towards an inn that looked promising, he saw a dwarf with a wide brimmed hat speaking to a tall elf that had a large sword strapped to his back. The dwarf said “Aye, Saijon it be called. Only recently opened for free travel. A mysterious land full of treasure, monsters, and other adventures. I be lookin’ for passengers to join me on me ship, the Dainty Orc. What say ye, matey?” The elf shook his head and said “I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m a little too old for such a trip, and my days of traveling are through. In fact, I’m going to the market to sell this sword that has seen me through my years of adventure.” At this point, Tobias stepped in. “Excuse me, how much is passage to Saijon?”

The dwarf stroked his beard. “Only twenty gold for the trip. Ye look a bit young to be all on yer own, think ye can hold yer own against the perils of Saijon?” Tobias shrugged “I’ve been holding my own for a while now. As long as I have my bow I’m not worried.” The dwarf leaned in closer. “Aye, but what should happen if something gets close to ye? A manticore not be likely to wait while you fill it with arrows from a distance.” Tobias then turned to the elf and asked, “How much for your blade? I heard you were selling it.” The elf unsheathed the sword, and swung it expertly through the air with one hand while saying “Do you think you can handle it? With some practice it can be used with one hand, but works just as well if you use two. I’m not looking for much, since I have no more use for it. Just 35 gold pieces.” Tobias pulled out his gold bag and counted out the pieces for both the sword and passage on the ship. Tobias shook hands with the elf, and followed the dwarf to the ship.

Sailors hustled about, pulling ropes and carrying crates. The dwarf, who had finally been introduced to Tobias as Captain Griphook, walked about, shouting orders. Tobias stood at the rail, watching the dock grow smaller and smaller as the ship gathered speed and left the bay. Tobias looked up at the sky and whispered quietly, “I’ll show you, father. I’ll do great things and do them without you, just like I have my whole life.”

Something that I need to mention here is that the GM for this campaign said that we could each choose a special, magical object for our characters to have at the beginning of the game. I played around with a couple ideas (including something that might have been salvaged from the Devil earlier, and could possibly have turned Tobias down a more evil path), but ended up with an obviously magical item you’ll see in the story. Something that isn’t mentioned in the story, however, is the cooler ability. Basically it lets Tobias use something similar to Smite Evilonce per day. The ability never came up in the story, but it’s been pretty handy in a few encounters.

Tobias ran after his friend Brakstil and laughingly shouted, “Get back here you evil fiend, so I may smite you with my sword!” Brakstil laughed as well and said in his most menacing voice, “You’ll never catch me, do-gooder!” Tobias caught up to his friend, who proceeded to cower in an exaggerated state of fear. Tobias ceremoniously took the stick he was wielding as a pretend sword and tapped his friend with it on the shoulder. Brakstil groaned and collapsed on the ground, twitching once for dramatic effect before lying still. Tobias stood triumphantly for a moment before laughing and reaching his hand out to help his friend up. By this time, the sun was low enough in the sky that Tobias knew it was time to go home. He said goodbye to Brakstil, and went home.

Today was Tobias’ birthday, so he was anxiously awaiting his dinner. While they didn’t have enough money for him to get an actual present, his mother always made sure to make his favorite stew for dinner. He ran home, burst through the door, and saw his mother sitting at the table with a parcel in her hands. “Hi Mom!” he said. He was curious about what the package contained, but figured it was probably just bandages or something similar. She smiled at him. “Hello there, honey, something came for you today.” Tobias gasped, “From who? I’ve never gotten anything on my birthday before!” Tobias ran over and his mom handed the brown package to him. “Well it looks like this year your father finally found a way to send you something. I think he’s been trying ever side you were born.” Tobias felt his jaw drop. “It’s from dad?” She nodded.

Tobias quickly opened the parcel and found a dagger encased in a leather sheath. Beneath the dagger was a slip of parchment. He pulled out the dagger and admired it momentarily, before reading the note. It read: My son, happy birthday. At ten years old you are arriving at the time where you will need to prepare yourself to fight evil. This sheath will help you in that. Any weapon sheathed in it for at least eight hours will bond with the sheath, and return to it should it ever leave your grasp. Tobias looked at the dagger and sheath in awe. He pulled out the dagger and gently set it on the table. Within a few seconds the dagger disappeared and reappeared within the sheath. Tobias laughed and did it a few more times while his mother finished preparing dinner.

The next day, Tobias showed his friends his new possession. He drew the dagger out of the case with a flourish before setting it gently in the ground. He then ran across the street and waved the sheath proudly when the dagger returned to the sheath. They all clapped and gasped before begging him to do it again. Tobias repeated the trick a few times and most of the children continued to clap and cheer. But Harry Rosen, a young orphan a few years older than Tobias just scoffed “ten years he’s left you and your mom alone and this is all he sends?” Tobias glared at Harry. “He had to go back to the celestial armies so you shut your mouth.” Harry stuck his tongue out “Your dad abandoned you, just like mine, so don’t try to convince yourself otherwise. He probably knew how stupid you’d turn out to be and didn’t want anything to do with you.” At this, Tobias leapt and punched Harry in the mouth. Harry responded by kicking Tobias in the shin before being pushed to the ground. One of the local clerics separated them before the fight could continue. Tobias picked up his dagger and sheath and ran towards home, crying.

Tobias burst into his house, and when his mother saw him she ran over and hugged him tightly. “Tobias, what’s the matter?” “Is dad ever going to come back?” He sobbed. She kissed him on the top of his head, “He will if he can sweetie, I’m sure of it.” Tobias jerked away from her. “Why can’t he come now? What if he just doesn’t like us and never wants to come back?” Annalee looked at him sternly. “Now Tobias, that’s just not true. Your father cares about us very much. He just–” Before she could finish Tobias yelled, “If he really cared then he would have come to see us! He doesn’t care! Well you know what? I don’t care either!” He ran back out the front door, not heeding his mother’s call for him to come back. He ran out through the town, not stopping when he reached the woods. He didn’t bother sticking to the path, but ran through bushes and over rocks, weaving and winding through obstacles.

Tobias ran until he could no longer hear or see any sign of the town. Eventually he couldn’t run any more, and he fell to his knees, panting for breath in between the sobs. He noticed that he was still holding the sheath, so he threw it as hard as he could at a nearby tree. The dull thunk echoed through the woods. “That looks like too nice of a possession to throw around so carelessly,” a voice from behind him said. Tobias jumped and turned around. A tall man in a flowing cloak stood near a tall oak, with a longbow at his side. The stranger continued, “Now why would you be out here all alone?” Tobias quickly wiped his eyes. “I got mad and ran here.” The stranger nodded, and walked over and picked up the sheath from where Tobias had thrown it. The stranger handed the sheath back to Tobias and said, “I’d hold on to that if I were you.” Tobias held it in his hands and scowled. “I’m mad at the person who gave this to me.” The archer shrugged, “Useful is useful, you should hold on to it anyway. Throwing away useful things only hurts you.”

The archer looked around before looking back at Tobias. “Do you think you can find your way back home?” Tobias looked around and shook his head, “I don’t recognize anything.” The archer smiled and said, “Well, lucky for you lad, I’m the best tracker around. We’ll just follow your trail back to town.” It took a while, but eventually the two made their way back to town.

The stranger stopped just before reaching the city limits, explaining that he didn’t do well in towns, and he needed to get back to his camp before nightfall. Tobias opened the door quietly, but his mother still heard and rushed over to him. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” Tobias could see streaks on her cheeks from where years had fallen. He looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry, mom.” Her face softened for a moment before returning to the stern look she had been giving. “So help me, Tobias, if you ever do something like that again you’ll be scrubbing this house so clean that the king himself wouldn’t feel good enough to enter.”

A knock at the door stopped her threats of punishment. Tobias stepped away from the door and his mother opened it. The high priest of the nearby temple stepped in and bowed his head. “Good evening, Annalee. I have come to relieve you of the body.” Tobias stared at his mother. She nodded at the priest, who entered the back room and returned with a small body. Tobias barely held back a gasp when he recognized Harry Rosen’s face. Tobias clutched his mother’s dress. “What happened?” He whispered. “Snake bite. The venom was potent enough that i couldn’t extract it before the damage was done.”

At this point the priest said “Since no one knows where he got the items from, and no one seems to be missing anything, you’re free to keep them as repayment for your troubles.” The priest left, and Annalee sat in her chair, a tear rolling down her cheek. Deaths for her weren’t common, and always seemed to trouble her got a few days. Tobias took this time to escape into the other room where Harry had been. Most of what was in the room consisted of the normal collection of poultices and bandages, except for a bundle of items sitting near the corner. Petting closer, Tobias saw two small gems, a piece of chalk, and a small bow.

The bow caught Tobias’ attention, as it was too small for most of the people in the village, but perfectly sized for a child. It was nothing incredibly fancy or refined, certainly not something valuable enough for Harry to believe worth stealing. Tobias reflected for a moment on the child’s cruel words earlier, and of all the times Harry had been mean to other children. Tobias also thought about some things the archer had told him. With those thoughts in mind, Tobias removed his dagger from the magical sheath, and poked one end of the bow inside.

Instantly the sheath stretched and lengthened, covering the majority of the small bow. Once it finished growing, the sheath and bow glowed a gentle blue. Tobias waited another few seconds to make sure that the dagger wouldn’t teleport back, and then set the dagger on the table among the other oddities. Tobias then walked out of the room and said under his breath “Bye Harry. I’ll make good use of this.”

Mithrail was surprised to wake. Judging by the simple architecture, he wasn’t in heaven, but still on earth. He noted that his wounds had been bandaged, and from the feel of them they were no longer bleeding. While he still felt drained, he felt much better than he expected to after such injuries. He called out “Hello?”

His response was some shuffling and a pretty young woman with bright red hair walking in the room and smiling. “Nice to see you’ve woken, I was worried for a while there.” Mithrail looked at her curiously and asked “Shouldn’t I be dead? I used healing spells on myself multiple times and some of my wounds refused to heal.” The girl nodded “Oh yes, those were nasty cuts all right. Luckily for you, my mother once gave me a book about supernatural wounds. Never thought the thing would ever come in handy, I only read it because I was curious.” Mithrail stared at her for a moment, marveling that one so young would have such skill. The girl coughed nervously and said “Oh, something came for you last night. Let me go get it.” She left the room for a moment before returning with a white envelope marked with the celestial seal. She handed it to him. “Some floating lantern thing dropped this off and told me to give it to you as soon as you woke up.”

Mithrail took the letter, opened it and quickly read it. “I’ve been instructed to stay here until further notice. My superiors are concerned about why the devils would have targeted this town in particular, so I am to watch and follow the advice of the local leaders to make sure no harm befalls this village.” Mithrail began to push himself up, the bandages pushing uncomfortably against his chest with the movement. The girl looked surprised. “What do you think you’re doing?” “I’m going to set up a perimeter around the city to identify the weaker points of the city’s defense.” The girl shook her head. “Not in your current state you’re not. At least two more days of bed rest.” Mithrail shook his head. “Did you not hear what was in my letter? I have my duty to attend to.” She walked over and pushed lightly on his chest, being careful to not put pressure on any of his wounds.

“Yes, and it also said to do so under the direction of the local leaders, so as chief healer of Isaudraud I order you to lie back down and get your bed rest.” Mithrail slowly lay down again, and gave her a puzzled look “You’re the chief healer of the town?” “Considering I’m the only one within at least one hundred miles who would know how to close up the wound from the tail of a horned devil, are you really surprised?” She crossed her arms and stared him down. Mithrail held his hands up in a defensive posture. “Of course, of course. I’m mostly surprised because you’re so young; you can’t be much older than seventeen.” She continued giving the archon an intimidating glare. “I’ll be turning 20 next month, thank you very much, and I can guarantee that in those 20 years I’ve patched up as many injuries as you’ve seen in however many hundred years you’ve been alive.” At this, Mithrail smiled. “Ok, miss, you win. I’ll take my bed rest.” She curtly nodded at him “Good. Now to the right of your bed I’ve placed some books I thought you might have interest in, and I’ll have lunch ready in half an hour. Just call for me if you need anything.” He smiled. “And what, pray tell, do I call you?” She smiled back “Annalee Eddins.” “Well Annalee, thank you for all you’ve done for me. My name is Mithrail Van Penn.”

The next month was spent searching for who may have summoned the devil, but no clues were found. There had been a number of visitors that had been visiting the town at the time, so it was assumed to be done by one of them. Since there were also no clues as to why the village was targeted, Mithrail took measures to ensure that the town would be better prepared to defend themselves. He had the skilled craftsmen prepare staves which he charged with dismissal spells. There was no guarantee that the charged spells would be powerful enough to dismiss the creature, but it was better than nothing. He also had a rod of healing spells made, which he gave to Annalee as thanks for healing him. Mithrail had grown quite fond of the young healer, and found he using every opportunity to spend time near her.

It was a strange feeling for Mithrail. In his legion they had been trained to let go of emotion as much as possible, but Annalee was constantly surprising him not only with her glowing smile and warm personality, but also with her ability to be completely focused and deadly serious when needed. Mithrail felt little longing for home, which was just as well since his superiors informed him that he was to stay there long enough to ensure another devil wouldn’t be summoned there. Mithrail helped build the temple to be a stronger means of fortification and protection, and within six months Mithrail realized that he never wanted to leave.

One year later Mithrail stood at the temple door, the envelope in his hands feeling closer to manacles on his wrists. He had known this would eventually come, but part of him had hoped that he would be stationed here for at least a few more years. But, he knew that he had to put his emotions aside once more and return to his proper place. First, he had to say goodbye. He walked slowly through the streets, savoring the sights and sounds of the small village He entered the front door, the sight of Annalee’s smile breaking his heart. She must have noticed his sadness, and when she looked at the envelope in his hand, her eyes stated filling with tears. She stood up, bracing herself with one hand on the table, the other protectively placed on her bulging stomach. “I had hoped the child would arrive before you had to leave, but I suppose that what time we had was miracle enough.” Mithrail walked over to her and embraced her. After holding her for a minute he took a small step back and lifted her left hand closer to his face, touching the golden ring she wore. “I suppose you’d best take this off now, since I likely can’t come back for years, if ever.” She pulled her hand away from him. “No sir, I will not. That ring means we’re married for richer or poorer, for better or worse, and there’s no way I’m breaking that just because you’re far away. The ring stays.” He smiled at her. “I’ll come back when I can,” he said. She kissed him. “I know you will.” he turned around, walked out the door, and, not being able to look back, he unfurled his wings and flew up into the sky. Annalee walked outside and watched him fly away, caressing her stomach, the kicks coming from within being her only comfort.

It was going to be just a cautionary mission. The small village of Isaudraud had recently been the target of a few devil summonings. While individually they were minor events, to have this many devils summoned within a season was frightening. There were signs that another summoning was about to take place, so Mithrail had been sent to catch the culprit. Mithrail had acted with haste and was flying as quickly as he could. But, judging by the screams of terror and the smell of burning, he was too late to prevent the summoning.

To his horror, he recognized the signs of the summoned devil. A horned devil summoned inside the sign of the broken temple could only be Baltruan, one of the chief horned devils that all archon were trained to recognize. While the signs of the summoning were still apparent, the devil was nowhere to be seen from this height. Mithrail landed, and judging from where the loudest screams were coming from, he judged the monster to be in the eastern part of the city. Mithrail saw the horned devil Baltruan off in the distance. Mithrail prepared himself for the surely inevitable battle by casting upon himself magic vestment, Shield of faith, bulls strength, and spell immunity for fireball, since that was the only spell most horned devils could cast that would harm Archons directly.

Mithrail shouted at the devil, “Baltruan, leave this village and return to the depths of hell! If you stay I will be forced to rid the world of your horrid existence, which I am perfectly willing to do!” Baltruan let out a deep, growling laugh and charged towards Mithrail, striking him with the long spiked chain the demon wielded. The blow rattled Mithrail for a moment, but the archon quickly regained his balance. Not wanting to endanger the people in the village, Mithrail flew into the sky, and cast divine power to boat his fighting abilities. The devil followed, striking him again with a rattling crash of the spiked chain. Mithrail swung his great sword at the devil, striking the devil once on the shoulder, and another slash to the stomach, opening a large wound. Baltruan then struck Mithrail with his chain, bit him on the shoulder, and opened a large wound on the angel’s side with a stroke from the large spiked tail. Mithrail flew off, but that gave Baltruan the chance to strike him again with the spiked chain.

Once Mithrail was a safe distance away, he cast a healing spell on himself, only to find that the large wound caused by the devil’s tail didn’t seal up, and continued bleeding. Baltruan then cast a fireball at Mithrail, but the protective ward Mithrail had cast earlier caused the fireball to fizzle out. This delay gave Mithrail a chance to cast another healing spell before the devil charged in for another attack. Mithrail managed to strike Baltruan on the leg, but the devil came back and struck Mithrail with the spiked chain, and across the chest with his monstrous tail, opening another gash. Feeling a little dizzy from the loss of blood, Mithrail flew off again, prompting another attack from the devil’s chain. Mithrail cast his most powerful healing spell when he was a safe distance away, only to see that the two wounds from the devil’s tail still refused to heal. Mithrail had heard that the tail of the horned devils had some horrifying wound dealing abilities, but had never seen it firsthand.

The devil flew towards Mithrail, but was not able to reach him before the archon prepared his attack. Once Baltruan was close enough, Mithrail struck him with a blow to the chest. The devil struck Mithrail with the monstrous chain twice, and once more with the barbed tail. Mithrail was growing weary, but noticed that the devil was incredibly injured and that this fight could soon be finished. Mithrail swung at the devil, and struck Baltruan a mighty blow to the wing. The devil tried to attack, but without the use of one of his wings he was unable to maintain his balance, so Mithrail took this opportunity and with one last swing of his mighty great sword he struck the devil in the heart. Mithrail only had a moment of triumph before realizing that the devil’s broken body would crash into the village square below, and of course many of the villagers had come out to witness the battle. Foolishly curious mortals, he thought before flying to grab the devil. He quickly realized that the load would be too heavy to truly control. He instead focused on pushing it to the edge of the village where it wouldn’t cause too much damage. He could feel the strain on his wings but knew that he had to keep struggling. He saw a lone figure running from the square following him, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the stupidity of some mortals. He crashed heavily, and could feel himself losing consciousness. His wounds still bleeding heavily, he accepted that he was to die now, but was glad he had managed to defeat the devil. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the shadow of a villager running towards him.

One of the things I enjoy most about playing Pathfinder and Dungeons and Dragons is simply creating a character. I love finding class archetypes and fighting styles, but most of all I enjoy finding the perfect race.

One of the characters that I’ve been playing recently is an Aasimar ranger named Tobias. Now, I don’t think there’s a class that Aasimar’s would be bad at, but they are practically a perfect race to be a cleric or paladin. So when I was making Tobias, I felt that the most important thing would be to figure out why a half-angelic being wouldn’t be fully embracing his divine nature. This becomes doubly important when considering that I picked an archetype that doesn’t give spells, so the only magic Tobias can do is the racial spell-like ability of daylight.

While creating Tobias’ backstory with this focus, I decided to take it more in depth. Rather than a simple paragraph on my character sheet, I decided to write it out in story form. So my next four posts or so will be showing the story of Tobias’ father, a Trumpet Archon name Mithrail, Tobias’ mother Annalee, and Tobias himself, and why he becomes the person he is. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.